My wine glass is full of moonlight, drank it
and I floated dreamily, on a carpet of night air.
Couldn’t resists the moon’s pull, saw my home
bathed in a spectral light, both beautiful and mortal.
Flowers in the garden were deadly pale, olive
trees wore silver capes of unrelieved sorrow
This nocturnal landscape isn’t to my liking, put
me down, red, green and golden are my colours
But I did glimpsed, behind the tall mountain,
night’s ultimate sacrifice, giving birth to dawn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem